


Hung Up on You

by Xyriath



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Bottom Roy, Ed-level cursing, Fraternization, M/M, Power Imbalance, Roleswap, Smol Roy, sort of???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-18
Updated: 2017-03-18
Packaged: 2018-10-06 22:28:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10345908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xyriath/pseuds/Xyriath
Summary: Colonel Edward Elric is pleased to have snapped up the latest alchemical genius to join the military, but for reasons more than his abilities.  And though Roy Mustang may be a looker, he's got an adorable awkwardness to him that Ed just wants to...Well, eat up.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Getti (Epsy)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Epsy/gifts).



> VERY VERY VERY VERY BELATED BIRTHDAY PRESENT FOR MY DARLING GETTI THAT TOOK FOR GODDAMN EVER TO FINISH BUT I HOPE U LIKE BB!!!!!

“Boss?”

Ed chewed on the end of the pen, the words vaguely penetrating his concentration as he stared at the capelet obnoxiously obscuring his vision.  His eyes narrowed slightly, and he wondered, if he asked to borrow it…

“ _Boss._ ”

Ed finally tore his eyes away from that regrettably covered ass, removing the pen from his mouth and dragging his gaze over to Havoc, grimacing.

“What?”

Havoc glanced in the direction that Ed had just been ogling, raising an eyebrow and lowering his voice.  “Could you be any more obvious?”

“Probably,” Ed deadpanned back, utterly unrepentant.  “Have you seen him when he talks to me?  I haven’t seen someone trip over their own two feet so much since Elicia was learning to walk.”

Havoc rolled his eyes, and Ed muttered, “Insubordination!”  This didn’t save him from the file slapping down onto his desk, and with a sigh, Ed opened it.

“Time to get a different view of him, then.  Also, your own damn secretary.  I’m tired of delivering papers for you.”

“It’s just ‘cause you look so good when you walk in,” Ed shot back without much force, skimming the papers.  Idly, he wondered if it were his skill with alchemy or the laid-back nature of his team that had kept him from getting nailed with fraternization accusations in the past few years.  Probably both.  He clicked his tongue, then looked back up.

“Hey, Mustang!”

The newest member of his team straightened from where he had been searching through the bookshelf, turning to face Ed, eyes wide at the force of the statement.

“Colonel?”  Mustang even saluted.  Adorable.

Ed beckoned him over with two crooked fingers, raising an eyebrow.  For someone eight years Ed’s senior, the man had a remarkably difficult time making eye contact with him.  And only him: Havoc, Fuery, Breda, Falman, Ross; Mustang seemed to be fine with them, but the moment he came within a few feet of Ed…

Like Ed had said.  Not very subtle.

“I’ve got some questions from the higher-ups about the history you provided.  Sounds to me like you’ve been everywhere.”  He flicked through the folder.  “I think they wanna know if you’ve got connections or something.  Know people there.  East City in particular, apparently.  Looks like you might be in the running for a special mission.  Who the fuck knows?”

Mustang shifted in his seat, then glanced down at his knees, hands twisting in his lap.  “I don’t think I can be of much help there, sir.  I’ve been to most places across Amestris, yes, but that was with my father.  I grew up traveling with him, and we never stayed anywhere long.  I would mostly stay in the hotel rooms we rented, and certainly never got a chance to speak with anyone.”

Ed glanced back down at the file, twirling a bang around an automail finger.  That certainly explained plenty.  No wonder he could barely hold a conversation.  Or flirt properly.  He toyed briefly with the idea of reining it in.  He’d keep an eye out for any signs to back off, but when Ed glanced back up, Mustang’s eyes had fixed on the hand.  As soon as he realized Ed had spotted him, however, he flushed and turned away.

…So maybe not.  Ed smirked slightly.

“Well, you’ll get plenty of opportunity to travel in more favorable conditions if you want.”  Ed snapped the file shut with an air of finality.  “So, onto other matters.  You’ve heard about Lieutenant Ross’s promotion?”

Mustang nodded, turning back to Ed, seeming to relax now that he wasn’t the topic of conversation.  Well, he should enjoy it for the couple seconds it lasted.  “To First Lieutenant, yes?”

“Yeah, that’s it.”  Ed leaned back in his chair, his expression innocent.  So innocent, in fact, that any of the rest of his team could have spotted trouble a mile away.  “I’m taking the team out to drinks tonight to celebrate.  All on me.  You should join us.”

“Join—me?”  Mustang drew back, looking a little alarmed.  “You shouldn’t go through the trouble—”

Ed waved his hand.  “Nonsense.  You’re part of the team, aren’t you?  Everyone else is coming.  Nice chance to socialize a little more.”

He grinned, and he could see Mustang hesitate.  “You mean that?” he asked, and the combination of wariness and hope in his voice startled Ed, prompting a small jumping sensation in his chest that he hadn’t expected.  But then again, he shouldn’t be surprised: going from a life of isolation like Mustang had described straight into a team that he had been built on camaraderie had to be a jarring shift.

“Of course,” he said firmly, grinning, and this time he could feel the sincerity shining through instead of the smirk.  “I know we’d all like to see you here.  Me especially.”

At _that_ , Mustang went an adorable shade of pink, glancing away and trying to look unaffected.

Ed’s smirk returned.

—

Though Ed ended up working late, too late to go back home to change, he always kept a few spare sets of clothes in his office.  More importantly, he always kept a spare set of absolutely, completely work inappropriate clothes alongside them.

When he stepped into the bar, he knew he turned heads.  It might be the golden hair, freshly brushed and tied in a high ponytail, bangs framing a dark face with matching golden eyes.  It might be the hint of eyeliner, smudged underneath those eyes, or the sleeveless red shirt that showed off his arms, one tanned and muscled, the other silver and gleaming in the low light.

Or, it might be the tight black leather pants.  Who knew?

Ross, Havoc, Breda, and even Fuery had dressed to similar effects, knowing the bar and its unofficial dress code, though Ed probably pushed the boundaries a bit more than them.  Falman had gone for safe.  Mustang had opted for a suit, but…

Well, he certainly didn’t wear it the way Ed expected.

Instead of neatly pressed and buttoned, it hung open, the white collared shirt underneath unbuttoned just enough to leave you curious about what would happen if you popped it open one more.  He had shoved the dark sleeves up to reveal a really, really nice set of forearms, by virtue of belonging to Roy fucking Mustang.  His hair, messy as ever, fell into eyes that the dim light of the bar seemed to make even darker.

It all culminated in a rumpled effect that, somehow, unbelievably, managed to convey ‘effortless sex on legs.’

Formerly smug and confident in his own appearance, the sight quickly sent Ed into a tailspin of _no fucking fair!_

“Colonel!”

Despite the look, Mustang didn’t seem to be much different.  He straightened, eyes wide, and tried to salute.  Noticing the drink in his hand, Ed’s left hand darted out to clasp around his wrist, stopping him from lifting it before he spilled.

“Calm down, soldier,” he teased, offering a careless grin in Roy’s direction.  “No need for formality here.  Hell, you can even call me Ed.  The rest of them do.  Mostly.”

Roy swallowed, nodding as he lowered his drink, glancing at Ed’s hand on his with mild alarm.  Ed admired the flush that crept up his cheeks for a few moments before releasing it.

“Then I suppose,” he murmured, voice soft, but the glance he shot Ed as he looked up was anything but, “you should call me Roy?  While we’re off-duty, of course.”

Ed grinned brightly over at him, and something tiny in Roy seemed to relax at having read the situation correctly.  He lifted his drink to take another sip, and Ed didn’t miss the slight lack of coordination in the movement.

“How many have you had?” Ed asked, trying to restrain his face back into something that wasn’t a smirk.  Roy glanced up from over the rim of the glass, then lowered it.

“This is my first one.”

Ed snorted softly, then leaned over to the bar, watching Roy out of the corner of his eye as he ordered a drink for himself.  Roy didn’t miss the opportunity to glance at the assets displayed in the leather pants.  Good.  He needed a confidence booster.

“Better watch it, then.”  He took the drink offered, a real Risembool Moonshine—one of the many reasons he chooses this place to frequent—and turned back to Roy, who looked faintly indignant.

“I’m not drunk!” he protested.

“No, but you look like you might be soon.”  Ed took a sip, grinning at the apple pie aftertaste that chased the burning.  Perfect.  “Y’know, for someone way bigger than me and all your limbs, I have a feeling I’m gonna end up outdrinking you.”

Roy scoffed, but of course Ed’s words prompted jeering from Breda and Havoc, demanding a drinking contest.  Ross put a halt to that, insisting that they could get smashed once she’d had a chance to squeeze several more drinks out of Ed.

“Glad to know you guys keep me around for a reason,” he retorted, swigging the moonshine when she grinned innocently over at him.

In the end, it didn’t even take a drinking contest.  Just three drinks with… slight strength.

“Y-you see, it’s not about the fire!” Roy chattered, hands waving animatedly as Havoc and Ed stared at him intently.  “It’s the—the damn oxygen!  You just gotta… y’know.”  He waved his hand again, this time dismissively.  “You gotta control that.  And when you… uh…”

He frowned in concentration, and Ed lifted two fingers, placing them against his lips with a grin.

“Now, now, don’t go around sharin’ your secrets.  It’s bad form, and y’never know when someone’ll try to grab ‘em and usurp you.  Or use ‘em for evil.  Whichever bugs you the most.”

Roy’s eyes went wide, and he froze.  “My god, you’re right.  There could be spies anywhere!  Drachman spies!”

His lips moved against Ed’s fingers, and Ed couldn’t help but laugh.  He reached over instead to pat Roy’s shoulder.  “Somethin’ like that, yeah.  Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

Roy nodded solemnly, hilariously so, then lifted his hands to take Ed’s, the one on his shoulder, and held it to his chest, staring down at Ed with an intensity that left even his heart almost stuttering.

“This… _this_ is why ‘m so glad I got you,” he murmured, eyes burning.  “’Cause you know this shit.  You’re… you’re damn brilliant, and so good, even when you were younger—shit, I can’t _believe_ I was this lucky.  And my god, you’re gorgeous, too, and I just…”  He shook his head, stepping closer with a wobble.  “Could I kiss you?  God, I wanna kiss you.  But…”  He let Ed’s hand fall, looking suddenly heartbroken.  “But that would be seducing a superior officer, wouldn’ it?  Shit,” he groaned.

Ed stared at him, jaw dropping, trying to suddenly come to terms with the fact that, yes, he _had_ just heard those words leaving Roy’s mouth.

Havoc seemed to have made himself scarce.

“Well, I mean, if you’re concerned about that sort of thing,” Ed said carefully, refraining from mentioning that he had never given a terrible amount of fucks about fraternization.  Though he would eagerly say yes to this in a heartbeat, he hadn’t expected it to come across as a drunk confession, and that made navigating the already tricky waters of consent even harder.   He hadn’t made the first movement for a reason, after all.  No need to put pressure on Roy.  He wasn’t interested in this unless Roy wanted it, too.

“And do you?”

Ed leaned back, tilting his head, and this time, Roy wasn’t even subtle with the way his eyes dragged up the dark skin of his neck.

“Tell you what, Roy.  You still feel the same way tomorrow, _sober_ , ask me then.”  Ed smirked.  “Alone, preferably.”

Roy’s eyes went wide, and Ed didn’t know what mental image he had conjured up, but it seemed to be a very nice one indeed.  He held this expression for a moment, then looked crestfallen again, and Ed winced, feeling as if he had kicked a puppy.

“So I can’t kiss you now?”

Despite the very, very tempting mournful look from those beautiful dark eyes, Ed took a step back, smiling wryly.

“No, Roy.  Not yet.”

—

Havoc insisted, nursing a hangover with a book spread open over his eyes, that one day, Ed was going to be too old to drink that much moonshine before coming into work the next morning.  Ed, bright-eyed and chipper, flipped him off with a loud “Fuck you, Lieutenant!” at a pitch and volume that left Havoc wincing.

Ross seemed to be faring a little better, while Breda seemed as untouched as Ed.  Roy… well, Ed couldn’t exactly tell how Roy was feeling, not with how his face was buried in an atlas.

“Taking me up on that chance to travel, Mustang?” Ed called, shuffling through his paperwork and then organizing it in chronological order (where it had previously been in alphabetical) to make it look like he was doing something.

Mustang only made a quiet noise, not looking up, and Breda snorted.

“Told him he shouldn’t bother, but he’s apparently doing that one assignment you got from General Hawkeye.  You know, mapping out those latest alchemical incidents, which you were supposed to do to see if there was a pattern?  The one she wanted last week?”

Ed went still.  Oh, yeah, that had been a thing, but honestly, he had things due that were _way_ later than a week.  He’d face her wrath later.

“Any luck?”

“Some, sir,” Mustang murmured, still not looking up, reaching out to take another pin and place it in a spot that seemed to be southwest of Central.  “Nothing concrete yet, though.”

“That’s not what he said a half hour ago,” Ross murmured, placing the open folder of her weapons certification on his desk.  “Sounded like he was close to cracking it.”

“Mmm.”  Ed signed with a flourish.  “Y’don’t say.”  He lifted his voice.  “Havoc, go get some coffee, and do some actual work for a change.  And take a babysitter if you’re not sure you won’t get distracted.”

“Guess that means me,” Breda broke in, stepping over and scooping his arm through Havoc’s.  “C’mon.”

“But boss!” Havoc whined, letting himself be led away.  “This is the only place I can sleep without getting yelled at!”

“I’ll start yelling if you don’t leave me alone.”  He handed the folder back to Ross.  “High-pitched.  Singing, even, and you’ve heard me sing.”

Havoc made a terrified noise.  “Oh, god.  Get me outta here, Heymans.”

“Go find a supply closet to sleep in like the rest of us!” Ed called after them.

Ross let out a soft snort, tucking the folder under her arm.  “Is that what you use supply closets for, sir?” she muttered.

Ed turned, eyebrows raised, expression innocent, and said archly, “Not anymore I don’t.  Not with my office.”

Ross wrinkled her nose.  “And with that, I am leaving.  I’ll see you later, Colonel.  And by later I mean, as far away from this moment as I can justify.”

The door clicked behind her, and Ed lifted his head.  His team had their flaws, sure, but they at least knew when to exit a room.

It took Roy several minutes to realize that they were alone.

He lifted his head, glancing around, eyes going wide as they took in the empty room.  Slowly, so very slowly, they slid over to Ed, then quickly looked away.

Ed sighed, standing, then walked over in Roy’s direction.  “I don’t bite, you know.”  He paused, considering, then tilted his head.  “Unless you want me to.”

Roy let out a panicked choke, shoving suddenly away from the atlas, then turning to cough frantically into his arm.  When he finished, he turned back to Ed, looking up at him with a mournful, almost panicked expression.

“I… last night, I was absolutely… I shouldn’t have…  I’m so sorry—”

Ed winced.  He didn’t usually feel guilty about this sort of thing, but most parties were usually both on the same page about what they wanted, too.  He reached out, gently taking Roy’s shoulders, trying to smile reassuringly.

“Hey, hey.  Look, it’s okay.  I’m not upset.  How much d’you remember?  All of it?”

Looking away again, Roy nodded once.

“Then hey, that’s somethin’.  I’m not upset.  Hell, couldn’t be further from it.  You don’t gotta be embarrassed.  I meant what I said, too.  If you actually still want anything, you just gotta tell me.  But if not, you say so, right now, and we’ll both forget this ever happened.”  Ed’s smile crooked up on one side.  “Deal?”

At that, Roy seemed to remember how to breathe, and he nodded slowly.  Ed didn’t miss the relief flooding his face, and he dropped his hands from his shoulders, congratulating himself on a crisis averted.

…Maybe.  As a blush crept back up Roy’s face, Ed wondered what it was this time.

Roy cleared his throat, head turning further away, the same way he did when Ed flirted a little too blatantly.

“What’s up?” Ed asked, eyebrow raising.

Roy shifted in his seat for a few more moments, but Ed let him think.  His patience rewarded him with a shy but hopeful glance upwards.

“…So, when you say you meant what you said, you mean…”

“I mean,” Ed finished for him as it became clear that the trailing off wasn’t likely to start back up again, “that if you wanna kiss, I’d be happy to, but if you don’t, we can forget about it.”

“No!”  Roy sat bolt upright, dark eyes widening again, and this time they met Ed’s.  “No, that’s not what I…”  He cleared his throat, then swallowed.  Though his blush deepened, he didn’t look away this time.  “That’s not what I want.”

Ed tilted his head, trying not to let the grin inside him split too quickly over his face, scare Roy off.  “So what’s the problem?”

“I… well, fraternization, for one.  Well, for all.  That’s the main problem.  I know we’re not supposed to, and since you’re my commanding officer…”

Ed nodded.  “Yeah, I can get how that might be concerning, and that’s why I’m sayin’ you can step away now, if you want.  Or whenever.  You could—well, you could say yes today and tell me to fuck off tomorrow and I’d get it.  No pressure.”

“But the rules?”

Ed snorted.  “Yeah, there are those.  And we’d be breakin’ them.  If that’s a problem, again, you can tell me to fuck off.”

“N-no!”  Roy sat up at that, eyes gleaming with… was that excitement?

Ed finally let himself grin.

“You like that?” he murmured, leaning in, eyes beginning to gleam as well, he knew.  “The idea of it bein’ a secret?  Never struck me much as a rulebreaker, Major Mustang.”

“I’m not!” Roy gasped, but the expression on his face of suppressed excitement said otherwise.

“Can’t fool me,” Ed murmured, leaning in so close that their noses almost touched.  “Now, I just have one last question—”

Roy, of course, ruined his smooth delivery of, ‘Can I kiss you _now?_ ’ by leaning in with a gasp and pressing his mouth against Ed’s.

It wasn’t even a particularly skilled kiss, a little harsh, a little clumsy, but something about the eagerness, the _earnestness_ , that sent a thrill deeper into his bones than anything from a more experienced partner could have.  He lifted his left hand to gently take Roy’s jaw, tilting it up and slightly to the side, correcting the angle.  Once Roy seemed to have the hang of that, he slid the hand around to the back of Roy’s neck, sliding his fingers up through that dark hair, softer even than he’d fantasized about.

Roy’s lips parted slightly underneath his, and he took the opportunity to flick a tongue out, just a tiny bit, to tease at pressing inside.

With a gasp, Roy jumped back, eyes wider than Ed had ever seen them, blush an attractive crimson color.

“Sorry,” Ed murmured, but his smirk dampened the apology.  “Should I not have done that?”

“No!” Roy gasped.  “I mean, yes, that was—you should have.  Should.  Do.  Still.”  He cleared his throat, reaching his hand up to straighten his hair.

“Noted.”  Ed said the word easily, then turned on his heel, walking briskly towards the door.  With one quick motion, he locked it.

When he turned back, Roy had stood, watching him, a combination of eagerness and nervousness that forced Ed to bite his lip to keep from fucking losing it.

“S-sir—”

“Roy,” Ed breathed, striding over in a few long steps, reaching up to straighten his hands down his chest.  “When we’re like this, call me Ed.”

Roy’s hands lifted to lightly grip Ed’s waist, and Ed grinned, sharklike.  This was going to be fun.

“All right.”  Roy swallowed, and Ed admired the bob of his throat as he did.  “Ed.”

“Perfect,” Ed breathed, and with an experienced twist, he pushed Roy back towards his desk.  Roy followed, a little alarmed and very surprised, until the backs of his thighs hit the wood.  He paused, clearly thinking Ed would stop there, and then let out an alarmed yelp as an automail hand pressed into his chest, tipping him back onto the desk.

Ed leaned over him, bracing that hand next to his head, grinning as their noses actually touched this time.

“Ed, what are you…”

“Please, Roy,” Ed drawled, pressing his left finger to Roy’s lips, then leaning in to kiss him, long and slow.  “Please.  I can tell you’ve got a lot to learn, and it’s about time we get started.”


End file.
